


Elegy of a brave man

by EruWildcat (wolfsbanesong)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Assassination, Blood, One Shot, Parenthood, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28610775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsbanesong/pseuds/EruWildcat
Summary: Not all heroes are good people, not everyone desire to make a change for the better. Some did not receive the privilege of a peaceful life and couldn't become what they dreamed for, when they were just children. Once upon a time, the Warrior of Light walked in the shadows and felt no regret for it.
Kudos: 3





	Elegy of a brave man

**Author's Note:**

> My first short fanfic for my WoL in FF14 and my first written creation since a long time. Let me know what you think about it and please keep in mind that english is not my main language, I might do mistakes and never realize it, so I'll gladly welcome any suggestion to improve. Thank you!

“Mom? Are you scared?”

The young Miqo’te turned to look at her son, surprised by his words. It was true, she was scared: the whole village was shook by the news coming from Ala Mhigo, of the army marching on the streets of the city-state not long after the fall of the King of Ruin. The child was confused, only a few days prior he saw his parents cheering and singing with the rest of Ala Gannha, to celebrate the victory of the Resistance. Decades of suffering and oppressions were over, they said, a bright future awaited the nation. The kid couldn’t know much of this, but he knew that war was a bad thing and his mother’s smile was a good thing, so he sang the ala mhigan anthem with them, long and complicated words he memorized from the adults of the village, excited and happy. But now, nobody was singing. Terror and uncertainty was all the child could see, he heard words of battles, of blood staining the salty lake, of monstrous magitek automations slaughtering the weakened Resistance. Everyone repeated the same words, the same name: Garlemald. He approached her in the half-light of their home carved in the stones of the Peaks, after she blew the candle on the wall.

The mother kneeled to reach the height of her first-born, his eyes full of doubt. They had the same eyes, a warm, rich honey that everyone complimented. She smiled, doing her best to calm down the fear bulding up in her heart to comfort the only source of joy she had during those hard times.

“Yes, I’m scared. But what did your father told you about fear? That it’s a friend, it wants us to be safe, so it comes to warn us of danger. Being afraid is wise, when something could hurt us. And what do we call the fear, when we undestand it?”

The kid squeezed his rag doll on his chest, the only toy he had, sewed in the shape of a cactuar.

“Courage.”

She nodded, chuckling for the adorable sound of his little voice. “Yes, that’s right. Now you must be brave, no matter what will happen. Can you do this?”

It was his time to nod, but he wasn’t satisfyed yet. He knew his mother was still scared and he had to do something about it, because his father told him he’d become the next Nuhn one day, the strongest and bravest, the protector of his tribe. A tribe of three until that day, because his father founded it, or so the kid understood. So he offered all he had, his only treasure, to his mother. He gave her his doll.

“I hug him when the fear is big. He chase the bad guys away and give me courage. You can have him, he is your friend now.”

It was too much. The young mother felt her eyes welling with tears, for that pure motion of affection in front of the nightmare ready to fall upon them. He put her before himself. She hugged him tightly, fighting to not cry.

“Now make a promise to mom, Ki’eru. Promise me you won’t change. Promise me to keep your heart soft, to stay gentle, to answer to fear with kindness how you did now. You’re the bravest little man I know and I’m proud of you. Promise me you won’t change.”

The child was surprised, but hugs were a good thing. His mother was proud of him. It was all he wanted, the thing that made him the happiest, even happier than going hunting with his father. He felt he did the right thing and felt proud and strong. Of course he wouldn’t change that, ever.

“I promise.”

The loudest thunder the child had ever heard broke the silence of their home. His mother screamed, holding her only child even tighter. There it was, the Fear. The real one, the Fear that push the brave man to commit the worst mistakes. He gripped on his mother’s dress, frightened like never he was before in his five summers of life, when he heard the screaming coming from outside and the sound of many thunderstorms echoing on the walls of their home. They were here, the bad guys. All he knew after that moment on was the sound of the invasion from the garlean troops, the gunshots, the civilians’ cry, their door opening to show his father yelling them to leave everything behind and run. He had the time to look behind his back just once, when his father grabbed his arm to pull him away: when he realized he dropped his rag doll, his courage, on the floor of their now empty home.

He didn’t think about that day in so long. He wondered why that memory flashed in his head right in that moment, while wiping away blood that didn’t belong to him from his face. His job was done, the pirates were all dead and the stolen goods retrieved. He kneeled to clean his knives on the shirt of one of his victims, he wouldn’t complain about it after all. He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him but he knew it was the guildmaster himself to speak behind his shoulder, the head of the rogues of Limsa Lominsa.

“Llymlaen’s tits, Eru. You got fast as lightning, those lads didn’t know they were dead when they dropped on the floor.”

The Miqo’te got up and sheathed his knives. A man at his physical peak, tall, sleek, light on his feet, he was the epitome of what people imagined when thinking about his race. The perfect Seeker of the Sun, but he hunted in the moonlight, the same that shone on the deck that night. He scoffed, grinning like it was just another day at work, untouched by the sight of the still warm bodies around them.

“I learned from the best. Only clean kills, not a sound. I appreciate you coming along, but it seems I didn’t really needed your assistance, Jacke.” he shrugged, without even try to hide his cockyness, being his characteristic attitude. He became one of the guild’s best and he did it fast, taking job after job, target after target, to keep Limsa from turning back to its chaotic origins after all the Admiral’s effort to make it an actual city-state. Not that he cared about it, he was in for the money. And he was good enough at his job to earn more than he even had during his childhood spent in complete poverty, so he felt like he had earned the right to brag about it, once in a while.

“Easy, lad. You’re a rogue, not a murderer. I hoped we could end this without spilling blood, it was a job for two, one looking over the other. Too bad they didn’t want to give back what they stole, the Yellowjackets will complain about this mess.”

“Can’t say we didn’t tried. They knew we were after them, so they’re the only ones to blame. Let’s leave the rest to our yellow friends and get an ale at the Bismark, shall we? I’m starving.” the rogue took the first step away from the slaughter, the hands in his pockets, light in spirit for completing a task as the manual dictates, without a single cut on his own skin. He probably still had some drops of blood on his shirt, but it was black, so nobody would notice anyway. Jacke followed, shaking his head. He was glad he had the code to count on to keep the outlaw prirates on check and his rogues as well. He wondered what could have been of that exceptional killer, if he didn’t approach the guild by his own choice. He would have been a very hard target to take down, if not. Relieved, he left the deck on the Miqo’te’s side, chatting with him like nothing happened. Because officially, nothing really happened that night and those pirates probably killed each other over who knows which unimportant matter, as they always do. There are no rogues in Limsa Lominsa, only shadows, hiding in plain sight, brave and proud.

But Eru was not a brave nor proud man.


End file.
